


Final Line

by underwatercafe



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Stucky - Freeform, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-08 21:40:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6874681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/underwatercafe/pseuds/underwatercafe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They can't fix them, not this time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Final Line

**Author's Note:**

> "The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man who lives fully is prepared to die at any time."   
> -Mark Twain

The sounds of machinery filled the room, lifeless gasps and mechanical beeps filled the room. There he lay, his friend, the boy with whom he walked the Brooklyn streets. He lay there, still and empty, his chest being forced to rise and his eyes fixed on Steve. Eyes that said everything, that cried and said sorry. He couldn't speak, he was broken and damaged. Even with the best medical service available, no matter how strong he was or how much Steve wanted him to stay, Bucky was dying. His bleeding was constant and his organs ruined. He could not be saved, and they both knew this. 

Bucky didn't want Steve to do this, it was his fault. They fought against stronger forces and lost. How could they have hoped to win? Steve was as bad off as himself, his strength was not enough either. They had been through everything and found themselves feeling like the young Brooklyn boys who couldn't hold a fight. Bucky knew he couldn't convince Steve to change his mind. They were both dying, and it hurt so much. It hurt to see the other in pain and it hurt to know they would never wake up.

They didn't speak, only look at each other. Their fragile heads nodded as smiles grew behind their oxygen masks. Their beds had been moved by each other, using the last of their strength to be closer to each other. They were so close. They both dropped one arm off the bed, catching a few tubes as they fell. Their hands joined together in the search for the switch. One finger each was placed on the socket, into which was plugged the robots keeping them barely alive. As they looked at each other, pale and weak but still smiling, the sound of the heart monitor was more apparent. 

Grunting with pain, Steve ripped his mask from his face. He turned to Bucky whose fingers pushed lightly on the switch. The heart monitor grew louder still. Bucky shook off his mask.  
“You sure?” He croaked as if he had never breathed in his life.  
“Yeah, you?” Steve choked.  
Bucky nodded as Steve placed his fingers next to his and prepared himself.  
“I'm with you 'til the end of the line.”   
Click, the monitor flat-lined, and the Brooklyn boys were home.


End file.
